


i'll take my heart clean apart if it helps yours beat

by zanthetran



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Choking, F/F, Fingering, Leather, Smut, harness and collars, just some good ol fashioned fuckin, slight praise kink at the end i couldn't help it, strap on, top yaz rights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:26:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26915842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zanthetran/pseuds/zanthetran
Summary: “Did you really like that stuff?” Yaz asks over tea a few nights later. “All those straps and leather? Wait, what did you look like as a man?”The Doctor bites into a biscuit and chews for a second, wrapping her arm around her leg that’s bent up, heel resting on the seat of the chair. She nods. “Yeah! Loved it, actually. And it’s not real leather, it’s made from a Grokkat, completely harmless. They grow the skin right back!” she says excitedly, like that’s not an absolutely horrifying thought.“Do you still like it?”--yaz finds something of the doctor’s from a previous self. turns out preferences from one body carried over.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 5
Kudos: 56





	i'll take my heart clean apart if it helps yours beat

**Author's Note:**

> hi hello i’m back thought we could all use something after those pics yesterday.
> 
> the plot of this is that meme from the simpsons where she says “i just think she’s neat” and it’s a picture of 13 in a bulldog harness that’s it.
> 
> title from: two by sleeping at last

“Is this it?” Yaz asks, holding up a long brown coat. The Doctor sticks her head out from a literal mountain of clothes and narrows her eyes, then shakes her head.

“No, it had more of a flair to the bottom, and it were a lighter brown,” she says, disappearing back into the pile a second later. Clothes fly behind her into another large pile at the other end of the closet (more like a full room) packed wall to wall with piles of clothes and full racks.

Yaz drops the coat and goes back to digging. She pulls shirts and trousers and a scarf that’s at least twice her height in length and then her hand wraps around something smooth and cold to the touch, a piece of metal sticking out. She feels around and her finger hooks through a metal ring and she pulls.

“Doctor?” Yaz says, moving the garment around until she finds the top. “This yours?”

The Doctor’s head sticks out from a different clothes pile than the last time and blonde hair messily covers half her face. She blows it out of the way impatiently and her eyes lock on the piece of leather and metal in Yaz’s hands. Her face brightens immediately.

“Yeah! I remember that,” she says, climbing down the clothes pile with no grace whatsoever and almost falling close to the bottom before she rights herself and walks over to Yaz. “Last body loved it -- or maybe it was the body before that. Can’t remember.” She takes the harness from Yaz and rubs her thumbs over the leather, soft expression on her face.

“Does this body like it?” Yaz asks. It’s...weird talking about the woman you’re shagging having been quite a few different men in the past, but she’s sort of gotten used to it, in a sense.

The Doctor looks up at her, lips parted slightly. Her tongue darts out for a brief second, then a grin forms on her face. “Dunno, let’s find out!” she says excitedly, dropping the harness and shrugging off her coat. She lets her braces fall to her sides and pulls both shirts off without a care. The way she undresses will always make Yaz a little breathless -- uncaring whether or not she looks  _ sexy  _ and just getting clothes off in the most efficient way possible. It’s so  _ Doctor  _ that it makes her chest hurt.

She’s not wearing a bra (unsurprising) and picks up the harness from the floor. She finds the bottom and slips it over her head easily like she’s done it before (and she apparently has) and takes a second to situate the thick strap over the tops of her breasts, pale skin and dusky pink nipples contrasting nicely with the dark blue leather and silver rings.

She grins when she looks back up at Yaz. “Looks like the tardis resized all my clothes -- that’s handy.”

Yaz licks her lips, mouth suddenly dry. “Yeah, handy,” she repeats.

Two rings sit on either side of the chest strap, and connected to the rings are straps going over her shoulders and one under each armpit, wrapping around her back. A large o-ring sits attached to the middle of the chest strap, hanging down between her breasts. The leather digs in a little where the buckles on the shoulders and side straps sit and it makes her look soft, malleable. It makes Yaz want to run her hands over her body and rake her nails down her stomach until she sees dark red marks marring pale skin. It makes her want to fuck her from behind while she —

The Doctor looks back down at the harness and nods. “Think I like it,” she says simply, then unbuckles them side under her armpit and slips it off her chest. She drops it to the ground and pulls just the white shirt back on, pushing up the sleeves to her elbows. “Right then, still looking for the coat?”

It takes Yaz a few seconds to catch up with the quick change of pace, then she nods. “Yeah,” she says, still sounding a bit breathless and unable to get the image of the Doctor in a  _ bulldog harness  _ out of her mind. “That pile has already been looked through.” She points to a pile of discarded clothes off to the side.

* * *

She doesn’t think about it again.

No, scratch that -- she doesn’t  _ consciously  _ think about it again. It’s more of a thought that is always in the back of her mind now, lurking and waiting until the most inopportune moment to make itself known again. When she looks at the Doctor at decidedly  _ not  _ sexy times she still sees her standing in front of her in that closet, harness over her shoulders and leather contrasting with pale skin and freckles splattered over her chest (Yaz has had her mouth on every single one, more than once).

It’s sort of distracting, especially when the Doctor is explaining something or telling her what to do or trying to save  _ planets  _ and all Yaz can think about is her hand wrapped around the strap that stretches across her back or her fingers hooked in the o-ring on the front or the Doctor on her knees, blue leather over her shoulders like her braces and looking up at her while Yaz --

“Did you hear me, Yaz?” the Doctor asks, handing Yaz the device.

The sound of the world they’re on comes rushing back and Yaz looks down at what she was handed (some type of weird mechanical...ball...thing). “Sorry, what?” she asks when she looks back up at the Doctor.

“You alright? You’re not hurt are you?” The Doctor’s eyes flick over her body quickly, looking for any obvious signs of damage (but the only damage here is the wet starting to soak through her underwear and that’s definitely  _ not  _ damage).

“Fine, sorry, spaced off a bit there. What did you say?” Yaz lies.

The Doctor points to the side of the device in her hands and explains how she wants Yaz to hook it up to the machine in front of them, then she dashes off and out of the room, leaving Yaz thinking about how good her back would look with that harness on.

And, okay. She’s never really been one for leather or harnesses or  _ extra things _ in the bedroom (other than the occasional strap or vibrator), but the image of the Doctor with that harness on makes her knees weak and she can’t get it out of her head for the life of her, and it’s sort of a problem.

* * *

“Have you found it yet?” the Doctor yells from a clothes mountain near the other end of the room.

“Not yet,” Yaz calls back, throwing a tweed jacket behind her. “Do you really need it?”

“Of course! Pulls together the entire look! Can’t have a suit without a hat, Yaz.”

“You’ve done it before,” Yaz points out.

“And I regret it daily,” the Doctor says. “It’s not huge, just like, this big.” She holds her hands a bit apart and moves them to try and show Yaz how the hat is shaped. “It looks kind of like this, and it’s got a feather --”

“No, you’re not wearing a hat with a  _ feather _ .”

“I am! It’s such a nice hat, I wish I could find it.”

Yaz rolls her eyes and starts digging through a trunk pushed against the wall. Her arm reaches down and goes past where the trunk would meet the floor, but she’s sort of used to that by now too and doesn’t question it when her hand wraps around something smooth and circular. It feels similar to the harness she’d found last week and she finds a buckle on one end as she pulls it from the trunk.

It’s a collar.

A blue collar. A dark blue collar that looks very similar to the dark blue harness, like they’re a set --

_ They’re a set. _

“Did you find it?” the Doctor asks, suddenly behind her. It startles Yaz so much she actually jumps and drops the collar on the floor. The ring on the front makes a small metallic noise as it hits the soft carpet and they both stare down at it.

“Oh,” the Doctor says, reaching down to pluck it from the floor. She holds it in both hands and rubs her thumb over the metal on the front. “Didn’t remember it had come as a set,” she says quietly.

Yaz is at a loss for words other than, “Did you used to wear that?”

The Doctor looks up then, her cheeks tinting scarlet. “Oh, yeah, yeah. Long time ago. Other body,” she says.

Yaz looks into blown pupils and sucks in a breath, heat already pooling in the pit of her stomach at the thought of the Doctor wearing  _ that.  _

“Do you still like it?” she asks.

The Doctor bites her bottom lip and looks back down. “Dunno, probably not,” she says, thumb rubbing over leather and the thick buckle on the back, circles and lines and dots engraved on the inside of the collar. Her mouth opens and Yaz is ready to say  _ yes, we can use it if you’re comfortable, I’d love to see you wear it _ \--

Red lights flash overhead and an alarm blares so loud it makes both of them jump, the Doctor dropping the collar. They look at each other and fuck if the Doctor doesn’t look a little breathless when she chuckles and smiles and says, “Guess that’s our cue,” before walking fast out the room, the collar forgotten on a pile of discarded clothes.

Yaz looks down at the piece of leather, then to the empty doorway. She rubs a hand roughly over her face and tries to get her cunt to stop throbbing as she follows after the Doctor.

* * *

“Did you really like that stuff?” Yaz asks over tea a few nights later. “All those straps and leather? Wait, what did you look like as a man?”

The Doctor bites into a biscuit and chews for a second, wrapping her arm around her leg that’s bent up, heel resting on the seat of the chair. She nods. “Yeah! Loved it, actually. And it’s not real leather, it’s made from a Grokkat, completely harmless. They grow the skin right back!” she says excitedly, like that’s not an absolutely horrifying thought.

(She doesn’t answer the question about what she looked like and Yaz lets it go.)

She’s been thinking about this conversation for almost a week and now every time she bends the Doctor over the edge of the bed she thinks about how the leather felt in her hand and if it would warm with the Doctor’s skin or keep the room temperature feel and whether the Doctor would want her to hold her still and --

“Do you still?”

The Doctor stops chewing and looks up from the thick book she’d been reading, custard cream crumbs scattered across the pages. The clock ticks on the wall (there’s a  _ clock _ in a  _ time machine _ ) and the tardis hums quietly under everything and she sees the Doctor chew on the inside of her cheek.

“Yeah,” she says, but it’s like the words snap her out of whatever daze she’d been in because she clears her throat and shakes her head slightly. “It’s alright, Yaz. Wouldn’t ask ya’ to use that stuff.”

“Right.” Should she offer? Does the Doctor  _ want  _ her to offer? Yaz can’t tell from the tone of her voice and then the moment is gone almost as quick as it had settled and the Doctor stands from the chair, yawning and wiping crumbs from her shirt.

“Think we should sleep, gotta let my second brain reset. I’m doing a system reformat,” she tells Yaz, moving towards the doorway.

Yaz is so confused by both the quick change of the conversation and the words that leave the Doctor’s mouth. She stands automatically from the chair and follows her into the hallway and towards her (their) bedroom. “System reformat?”

The Doctor nods. “Yeah, putting it back to factory settings. Too much clutter in there, y’know,” she says like it makes any sense at all. “Just the one, though. Got my memories in the top brain.”

Top brain? Yaz is too bloody tired to dive into that as she follows her into the bedroom.

* * *

Yaz doesn’t notice the thing hanging on the doorknob until she reaches for it after getting ready for the day. Her fingers touch smooth leather and she pulls back, brows furrowing as she finally looks at the collar now hanging off the door handle. She picks it up and holds it in her hands, tracing the tip of her finger over the engraving on the inside. It’s the same type of shapes all over the tardis so Yaz assumes it’s the Doctor’s language.

The color is almost the same as the tardis and it makes her smile a bit as she heads down the hall and into the console room. The Doctor is bent over the console, one arm up to her elbow in the middle panel, white shirt sleeves pulled up to her biceps.

“Is this a hint?” Yaz asks when she leans her hip against the console, holding the collar up on one finger. The silver shines in the light and the Doctor looks over once, then snaps her head back a second time.

“Where did you find that?” She pulls her arm out of the console and it’s  _ wet  _ and Yaz doesn’t want to know with what.

“Were on the door handle. Figured you put it there,” Yaz says, raising a brow. “Tryna leave me a hint?”

“I didn’t put that there,” the Doctor says, wiping her arm with a towel next to her.

Yaz laughs, putting the collar down on the console next to her. “Then who did? Didn’t see anyone breakin’ in in the night.”

The Doctor furrows her brows and bites the inside of her cheek. “Me either,” she says cryptically, looking around the tardis slowly.

“Maybe the tardis put it there,” Yaz quips sarcastically.

“Good idea, Yaz! She probably did, always movin’ my stuff. I’ll give her a talking to later.” The Doctor picks up the collar and shoves it deep into her never ending pocket. “Wanna go to the beach? You can ride a dolphin! Well, I say dolphin but I mostly mean sort of like a shark, but if a shark had legs and could also communicate telepathically.”

“Sounds absolutely terrifyin’,” Yaz deadpans.

“Great!” The Doctor pulls the lever and the tardis shakes as it takes off.

* * *

She pushes the underwear to the side as she digs through the drawer, looking for a specific pair. The dress she’s wearing is a bit form fitting (apparently the tardis thinks she’d look nice in it, and Yaz doesn’t really know how to take that) and most of the underwear she keeps on the ship leaves lines on her ass and she doesn’t want that showing through the dress.

They’re supposed to go dancing, or something. She’s pretty sure it’s dancing but the Doctor was very vague about it and so it’ll probably end in a bank heist or something. Probably with them both running towards the tardis, hands clutched together and hearts racing.

(Really, she doesn’t want anything else.)

She finds another pair that is  _ not  _ the pair she’s looking for and then her fingers brush against it. She immediately knows what it is, having held it more than once, and pulls it out of the drawer.

The collar is the same as the last time she’d seen it and she’s half expecting it to grow legs or something, show that it’s sentient and is just fucking with her. It’s not like she doesn’t  _ believe  _ the tardis had put it on the door handle and now apparently her underwear drawer, it’s just that she’s not sure how she feels about a mostly sentient ship hiding a collar everywhere she goes.

She finds the underwear almost immediately after that and slips it on with a snap, putting her shoes on (not heels, she’s not mad) and picking up the collar before she leaves her room.

“Missing something?” she asks when she walks into the console room. The Doctor is leaning against it in a suit almost exactly like the one she’d worn to Barton’s party all those months ago. Yaz holds up the collar again and the Doctor’s brows raise. She reaches out and takes it from her hands, looking down at it with a confused expression.

“Where did you find it?”

“My underwear drawer. You leave it there?” Yaz leans her hip against the console, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Course not, Yaz,” the Doctor says indignantly. “Dunno why she keeps bringin’ it out. I told her to stop.” The tardis hums in response and the Doctor frowns. “Sorry, Yaz. She gets in a mood sometimes.”

“A mood where she keeps putting a  _ collar  _ everywhere? Seems kinda like she’s trying to tell you something, Doctor.”

The Doctor’s cheeks flush and she looks away, looking back down at the collar in her hands. “Right, yeah. Don’t worry, I’ll talk to her again.”

“You know, if you wanted to --”

The Doctor shakes her head quickly. “No, no it’s fine. It’s just something a previous body liked. I’ll make sure the tardis doesn’t leave it anywhere else.”

Yaz reaches forward and takes the collar out of her hands. She flattens it out and steps forward, close to the Doctor now as she lifts it up to her neck, leaning back to take in the look. The Doctor freezes in place and her tongue darts out to wet her lips, eyes wide and trained on Yaz.

Yaz hums appreciatively. “I like it. The color is nice,” she says, dropping her hand. “Shame it wouldn’t fit under your shirt collar.” She tugs on the crisp white shirt buttoned up to her neck and the Doctor sucks in a breath, swallowing hard. Yaz steps back and hands the collar back. “Ready to go?” she asks, ignoring the heat pooling in the pit of her stomach again. She has half a mind to push the Doctor against the console and have her way, collar or not, but she keeps her resolve and nods towards the door.

The Doctor jolts out of her state and nods, grin forming on her face like she isn’t affected in the slightest.

“Brilliant, love a good dance,” she says, holding her elbow out for Yaz.

* * *

She was right about not wearing heels. That’s a funny thought to have when you’re running from guards chasing you and the time traveling alien towards her spaceship, Yaz thinks.

Her dress billows behind her, as do the coattails of the Doctor’s coat. Their feet slap against the smooth floor as they make their way towards the tardis parked somewhere at the back of the building. The Doctor grips her hand so hard she thinks it might break and Yaz grips back just as tight. Blonde hair flies behind her as they run and there’s a slight smile at the edges of her lips when Yaz looks over -- of course she’s bloody enjoying this.

They round a corner and almost run straight into what looks to be a large closed door to a now sealed hallway, blocking the way to the tardis. The Doctor moves to the panel on the wall next to her and rips the keypad off, touching wires and getting a spark.

“Yaz, grab my sonic out of my pocket. Point it at the panel, just point and click,” the Doctor says, getting another spark and flinching back.

Yaz does as told and reaches into the right pants pocket and they  _ really  _ don’t have time to analyze the fact that her fingers grab soft leather first, the metal of the collar on her fingertips and the metal of the sonic on the back of her hand. She pulls the sonic out, heart now beating a bit harder in her chest than when they were running, and points it at the panel where the Doctor touches wires together. They spark once, twice, then the door slides up into the ceiling and the Doctor grins.

“Thanks Yaz, you’re a natural,” she says, taking the sonic from her hand and moving into the room. She points it at the door when they get inside and it slides down just as the guards around the corner.

“Did we really have to steal that?” Yaz asks when the Doctor shoves the key into the lock.

“Of course! It was stolen to begin with! We’re technically returning it,” the Doctor insists, letting Yaz step into the tardis first before stepping in herself and letting the doors shut behind them. There’s one loud bang on the doors that startle them both before the Doctor pulls down the lever and takes them off.

There’s a silence that settles over them as the ship comes to a stop wherever the Doctor landed them (probably the time vortex) and they both lean against the console heavily, chests still heaving from the run and adrenaline spike.

Yaz doesn’t even remember the collar that night as they both shed their clothes and climb into bed, the Doctor tucked against her back, cold nose pressed against her shoulder.

* * *

There’s something on her face when she wakes up and she thinks it might be a note from the Doctor, except Yaz had told her to stop sticking notes to her face while she was sleeping and also this is a lot heavier than paper. Yaz pulls it off and opens her eyes groggily, squinting at the object in her hand.

She almost rolls her eyes.

Her body is stiff as she stretches in the bed and rolls to her side, picking her phone up from the dresser and checking the time. It’s later than usual and she rubs a hand over her face before swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and standing up, the collar forgotten on the bed for a minute as she gets ready.

The one great thing about the tardis is the hot water that seemingly never runs out and Yaz feels quite refreshed after she gets out and pulls on her clothes for the day. She grabs a jacket just in case and picks up the collar once more and leaves the room.

She doesn’t say anything when she enters the console room and the Doctor only looks up when she comes to stand next to her.

“Mornin’ Yaz! Sleep well?” she asks with a grin, straightening up from where she had been squinting at a screen.

“Woke up with this on my face.” Yaz holds up the collar.

The Doctor frowns.

“I swear, I talked to her, Yaz,” the Doctor says, reaching for the collar.

Yaz pulls her hand out of reach. “Are you not telling me something?” she asks.

The Doctor furrows her brows. “I’m not tellin’ you loads of things, Yaz. Got universe saving secrets in my head.”

“I meant about the collar.”

“Oh.”

Yaz pauses, then asks, “Can I see it on you?”

The Doctor’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. Her eyes dart to the collar in Yaz’s hands and her pupils widen, eyes darkening.

“Yeah, I s’pose,” she says meekly, taking the collar handed to her. Yaz watches her undo the buckle then look up at her as she holds it open in her hands. Yaz nods her head just slightly and the Doctor wraps it around her neck, expertly buckling it back. When she’s done she drops her hands and raises her chin slightly, though she looks like she’s about to bolt or do something terrible like take it off.

Yaz looks from her face down to the collar resting over soft skin -- skin she remembers running her lips over yesterday morning and nipping at with her teeth. The blue contrasts just as nicely as the other harness did and the o-ring hangs just above the dip in her neck. Yaz feels her stomach twist as she imagines the other harness on at the same time as the collar, and the Doctor on her knees, on her back, bent over the bed with Yaz’s hands on that leather --

She reaches forward unconsciously and touches the tips of her fingers to the collar, wrapping a finger in the o-ring. The Doctor’s nostrils flare but she doesn’t move, standing stiff as a board as Yaz tugs slightly.

“If you wanna wear this, you just have to tell me y’know,” Yaz says, tugging again to make her point. The Doctor leans forward just a bit and her lips part, hot breath coming out in a short pant. Her eyes are dark as they stay locked with Yaz’s and she works her jaw for a second. “Truly,” Yaz says, dropping her hand and stepping back. “If this is something you like then you should use it.”

There’s a short pause, then the Doctor looks like she loses the battle going on in her brains. “ _ Please _ .”

* * *

Yaz busies herself with the toy, slipping it through the front of the harness and tossing it on the bed. She pulls her hair out from the ponytail from earlier and runs her fingers through it a few times. The bathroom door clicks open and Yaz turns just in time to see the Doctor step into the doorway, obviously trying not to look nervous as she comes to stand in front of Yaz at the side of the bed. Yaz feels her chest pound as she takes her in from head to toe, the harness and collar situated and her body void of any other clothing (exactly how Yaz had told her). Thick tension settles around them like a blanket and she can’t help the way her cunt throbs as she takes the Doctor in.

“Wow,” Yaz breathes, hand coming up to rest on the leather over her right shoulder.

The Doctor swallows but doesn’t say anything as Yaz runs her hand down and over the chest strap, pressing into the tops of her breasts. One hand rests on her left shoulder and the other wraps a finger through the o-ring hanging between her breasts. Yaz tugs slightly and smirks at small noise the Doctor lets out when she’s pulled closer. Yaz lets go and wraps a finger through the ring at her neck but she doesn’t pull. The Doctor’s eyes swim with desire and Yaz can hear her heavy breaths, nostrils flaring.

“I like it,” Yaz says. The Doctor looks so relieved it makes her chest ache all over again and Yaz wants to tell her she’s beautiful and wonderful and amazing and  _ life changing _ . “I really like it,” she says instead.

The Doctor grins and pulls back just a bit to look down at herself, though she obviously can’t see the collar. “Me too, thought it looked nice.” The Doctor leans over and picks up the strap on laying on the bed. “You’re using this one?”

Yaz raises a brow. “Is that not the one you want?”

The Doctor makes a face, then shrugs. “There’s the blue one.”

Yaz laughs. “You want to be a matching set with the dildo I fuck you with?”

The Doctor huffs and her next words stop Yaz’s joke in its tracks.

“The blue one is bigger. I’ll definitely need the blue one.”

The thick tension is back and Yaz clicks her mouth shut, nodding.

“Alright then.”  _ Blue one it is. _

* * *

“Do you want me to choke you?” Yaz asks a minute later when the Doctor is pushing the blue dildo through the front of the harness.

The Doctor’s head shoots up and her lips part. “Oh, uh, if you’d like. You can’t  _ technically  _ choke me but it’s nice.”

It’s  _ nice _ .

Yaz steps up to her and hooks a finger in the o-ring, pulling her close enough to brush her lips over the Doctor’s open mouth. The Doctor leans forward slightly and Yaz pulls back, holding her back from following. Yaz grins. “Think I really like this.”

The Doctor huffs and frowns. Yaz pulls back completely and takes the harness and toy from her. “On your knees,” she says, nodding to the bed.

The Doctor immediately gets on all fours on the bed, leaning forward on her elbows and looking around her body while Yaz pulls the harness up her hips and tosses her shirt at the chair in the corner. She places both palms on her ass and squeezes. The Doctor lets out a soft sigh against the sheets under her and her back bows. At the first swipe of her fingers the Doctor moans quietly and moves back slightly, hips jerking. Yaz rubs her clit with the pad of her finger and places one hand on her lower back, holding her still as she rubs harder. The soft moans turn louder as the Doctor tries to move back onto her fingers.

Yaz pushes one finger in to the knuckle and the Doctor groans low in her throat. Yaz curls her finger when she pulls out, adding another one when the Doctor breathes, “More.”

She pulls both digits out and runs them up her back, wet fingers leaving a trail and wrapping around the strap across her shoulder blades. The Doctor gasps sharply when Yaz gives a small tug and she raises up higher on her elbows.

Yaz uses the other hand to press the blunt end of the toy against her entrance, the Doctor trying to press herself back again. She pushes just the tip in and the Doctor groans, hands clutching at the sheets already. She pushes another inch, then another, then another, then the rest when the Doctor finally pushes herself back fast enough that Yaz can’t stop her and the rest of the cock gets buried inside. She moans low and her back tenses as Yaz rocks her hips forward, slightly moving her on the bed.

“Please, Yaz,” the Doctor breathes, face flushed.

Yaz squeezes her hip and tightens her hold around the leather strap as she pulls out and pushes back in, a bit faster. The Doctor grunts and Yaz does it again, rolling her hips into her ass every other thrust as she speeds up. The harness really is great for keeping the Doctor in place and Yaz wonders why she’d never thought of it before. Skin slaps against skin as she fucks into her and the Doctor starts to let out a small moan each time she bottoms out.

There’s no ring on the back of the collar (a shame), only the silver buckle glinting in the light of the room, shining differently with every thrust and hard movement on the bed. Yaz fucks her like a woman possessed, leaning forward and bracing herself with a hand on the back of her ribs as she ruts her hips forward. She breathes hard on the back of the Doctor’s neck and watches the goosebumps erupt in the wake.

The Doctor’s arm shoots out and she turns her head, trying to look at Yaz.

“Yaz, I’m gonna cum,” she says desperately.

Yaz stops immediately and straightens up, breathing heavy. Her heart beats hard in her chest and she can  _ feel  _ how wet she is even without touching herself. The Doctor makes an angry noise when she pulls out but stops when Yaz taps the cheek in front of her. “Over,” she says and the Doctor scrambles to roll over.

Yaz looks down from between her spread legs, eyes moving from her dripping cunt to the marks above her breasts where the harness was digging in from Yaz’s pulling, to her neck where the blue wraps around it like a present. Her lips are parted and a pink tongue darts out to wet them as she stares up at Yaz.

Yaz traces the red lines under the chest strap with her fingers and goosebumps erupt on the Doctor’s skin.

“Does it hurt?” Yaz asks.

The Doctor shakes her head. “No, definitely doesn’t hurt. Not a lot at least.”

Yaz moves her fingers from the marks and down to circle her right nipple, flicking it with the tip of her finger. The Doctor jolts slightly under her and Yaz smirks when she leans down and takes one breast into her mouth. Her finger twists the other nipple as she does a circling motion with her tongue and the Doctor groans, the sound rumbling in her chest. The chest strap presses against her nose and when she inhales all she smells is leather and sweat and the Doctor and she closes her eyes, sucking harder as a hand moves to the back of her head. When she pulls away the Doctor’s chest is heaving and she lets out a strangled moan when Yaz moves to take the other breast in her mouth.

She kisses up the middle of her chest and over the harness and licks from her neck to her ear, tugging on the chain with her teeth. Finally she kisses up her jaw, then her cheek, then the side of her mouth before pressing their lips together fully. The Doctor immediately darts her tongue forward and Yaz lets her, deepening the kiss and sinking her hands into blonde hair.

Hands tentatively touch her sides, moving up her ribs and resting under her breasts, then her thumbs flick Yaz’s nipples and Yaz feels them harden at the touch. She lets the Doctor palm her hands over her chest, twisting and flicking her nipples here and there, and then Yaz gets a bit tired of it and grabs her wrists softly, moving her arms to push them against the bed on either side of her head.

The Doctor keeps her hands there when Yaz releases them and Yaz bites down on her bottom lip, letting out an appreciative noise. The Doctor moans desperately and her hips buck up off the bed, the end of the toy touching her clit for barely a second. She lets out a needy sound and mumbles against Yaz’s lips until Yaz pulls back.

Her face is flushed and her hair lays around her head like a messy halo and her chest rises and falls fast and Yaz could almost say she can see the double pulse of her hearts thumping against the side of her neck as it beats hard.

“Yaz,” she says, tongue darting out to her lips again. “Please.”

The noise she lets out when Yaz moves the toy to her entrance and shoves the entire length in without much preamble will probably stay with her for the rest of her life. The Doctor’s hand moves to the side to clutch at the sheets and she groans loud, head tilted back and mouth open wide in a silent scream. She breathes out hard through her nose and relaxes slightly when Yaz stops after bottoming out, giving her time to readjust.

The Doctor grips her hip and hooks a leg around the back of her thigh and nods. “Keep going.”

Yaz, not one to disappoint, does just that. She starts a pace slightly slower than when she was on her knees and straightens up so she can slip her hand between them and wrap it around warm leather across her chest (apparently it does warm with her skin). The Doctor bites her lip hard as Yaz’s other hand goes to the collar, now slightly loose (and she doesn’t remember the Doctor even  _ doing _ that). Yaz tugs once on the o-ring then pushes two fingers under the collar, knuckles resting against her throat.

The resulting moan vibrates against her hand and Yaz tugs, tightening the leather with her grip. The Doctor whimpers and her hips cant up as Yaz thrusts into her over and over again, a slick wet sound coming from her cunt. Yaz looks down into the hazel eyes swimming with desire and need and she only holds on a few seconds before letting her grip loosen. The Doctor sucks in a gulping breath.

The way she looks up at Yaz with her eyes shining, like Yaz is the most incredible thing that has ever happened to her, has Yaz’s chest aching again and she leans down to press a kiss underneath her jaw. The Doctor runs her fingers through Yaz’s hair and breathes, “Thank you,  _ gods _ , thank you.”

Yaz smirks against her neck. “Don’t thank me yet, you haven’t even cum,” she mumbles against her skin before pulling back.

The Doctor’s mouth opens to respond but Yaz cuts her off by adding a third finger under her collar and pulling it tight. Her mouth stays open in a silent scream and the hand that was holding Yaz’s shoulder falls to the bed to grip sheets tight in her fist. Yaz holds on longer this time, pushing her knuckles harder into the Doctor’s throat as she lets out a small choked whimper and her body shakes slightly. When she lets go the Doctor sucks in a deep breath and pants hard, chest moving under Yaz’s other hand, still gripping the harness. She’s rocked back with every thrust of Yaz’s hips and her hips raise slightly, trying to get deeper,  _ more _ .

“Please, Yaz. I n —“ Yaz tightens her grip again and the Doctor’s words choke off. Her eyes fall closed and her hearts thud hard in her chest against Yaz’s knuckles. Yaz tightens her grip ever so slightly before releasing her and the Doctor breathes in, mouth opening to say something but being cut off again when Yaz tightens her grip once more. She’s close, probably teetering on the edge as Yaz fucks into her and Yaz can feel her cunt tighten around the cock, waiting for Yaz’s instruction.

“Do it. Cum for me, Doctor,” Yaz growls. She feels the Doctor clamp tight around the toy almost immediately as she’s thrown off the peak, hurtling down to the ground at top speed. Her hips rut up and when Yaz lets go of the collar she lets out a whimper and a low, gravelly moan. Her chest heaves with every deep breath and she gasps when Yaz doesn’t stop, just barely slowing down.

“Yaz, I dunno if I can —“

“You can,” Yaz says soothingly, rubbing her thumb over the front of her throat, underneath the collar. “You did so well the first time, you can do another.”

The Doctor looks up at her desperately and her hand moves between them. Yaz knows the exact moment her fingers find her clit because she lets out a sharp gasp and her brows furrow together, legs spreading wider. Yaz pulls back and looks down between them where the Doctor rubs tight circles over her clit while the blue toy thrusts into her over and over. Her cunt pulls it back in with a tight grip and Yaz pushes her knees towards her stomach to get a better view, suddenly unable to take her eyes away from how the Doctor stretches around the fake cock.

The Doctor whimpers when her fingers slip over her clit and Yaz looks back up at her. The scarlet of her chest and neck contrasts beautifully with the dark blue leather and Yaz thinks she likes it more than how it contrasts with her usual pale skin. Her body is taut like a string ready to snap and when she looks up at Yaz with need in her eyes, Yaz can’t help but let her have anything she wants.

“Again, Doctor,” Yaz growls.

The Doctor bites her lip hard between her teeth and her fingers speed up on her clit, working her up to the peak again then pushing her over. She shakes as she comes this time and she rips her fingers away from her oversensitive clit as Yaz rides her through, bringing her back to Earth with one final push in.

They both breathe heavy, chests heaving and skin sweaty and Yaz is sure her hair is a right mess from the Doctor’s pulling and the Doctor’s hair isn’t much better. Yaz leans down and presses a kiss between her breasts, then one under her ear. The Doctor shudders underneath her when the cock gets jostled inside of her and her cunt flutters with aftershocks.

Yaz nips at her jaw and presses a quick kiss to her open mouth, the Doctor far too dazed to even respond at the moment. She moves and presses a kiss underneath her chin, then over the collar around her neck, then to her collarbone. The Doctor shakily brings a hand up to card through Yaz’s hair and she tugs weakly, pulling her back up to kiss her properly.

She shudders when Yaz pulls out and finally straightens up fully, looking down at the Doctor now spent on the bed. The Doctor looks up at her and smiles tiredly, closing her eyes. “Can I thank you now?” she asks, exhaustion lacing her voice.

Yaz lets the toy and harness drop to the floor, then climbs on the bed next to the Doctor. “Sure,” she says, grabbing the Doctor’s wrist and pulling her hand towards her cunt that has been aching for release the entire time. “Just do it with less talking.”

The Doctor’s eyes look over at her when her fingertips touch wet heat and Yaz moans low in her throat as her fingers swipe over her clit. The Doctor rolls more on her side for a better angle and shoves two fingers in immediately and Yaz grips at her shoulders, hands coming up to hold the leather straps for support.

“Thank you, Yaz,” the Doctor mumbles against her collar before biting down sharply.

Yaz comes around her fingers (twice) less than a minute later and she’s not complaining at all when the Doctor drops to her knees and pulls her ass towards the end of the bed, tongue wetting her lips like she’s looking at a delicious meal.

**Author's Note:**

> what's up follow me @zanthetran on tumblr <3


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